Silver Suede
by Wings Of Sanguine
Summary: While trying to escape the prison, Peter manages to snatch a certain someone's prosthetic for Rocket's escape plan. One-Shot.(DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CAPTAIN AMERICA, GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS)


The plan was simple. Get all the parts that Rocket needed, get to the weird ship thing in the center of the rehab center then fly away. Of course, it was easier said than done. What Rocket had wanted was going to be hard to get. Heart beating hard against his ribcage as he ran, Peter Quill dashed down the halls of the prison as inmates tried bashing each others skulls in. The siren blared overhead, red lights flashing.

"This better be worth it, Rocket," he muttered to himself, "or else I will fry your furry little ass for dinner if I don't end up going deaf first…." Shooting a glance at the opposite side of the corridor, across the hams that held other prisoners below, he could see a flash of green skin. He grinned as the security guards went down, a bolt of electricity sparkling as a security door monitor was ripped from one of their arms.

"Good job, Gamora," Peter congratulated her under his breath as he watched her race her way to the pod, Groot doing his best to try and protect Rocket and Drax. The large tree was rapidly growing, Rocket scampering up his trunk. Drax was on his heels, green tinged muscles rippling with anger.

That was not good. Drax was not part of the plan. Pushing the thought away, Peter ran down the corridor, boots clunking heavily on the floor. Cells were an orange blur as he passed them, pausing momentarily to scan each one.

"Nope, sorry!" he hurriedly apologized to a rather large, brutish woman, a tattoo of a dancing hula girl on her bicep. Wiping sweat from his forehead, he made a mental note: take care to look more closely at who's cell you were barging into. He could hear Rocket and Drax yelling at each other from their perch on Groot's shoulder as they climbed into the pod:

"You may as well be the Jolly Green Giant!"

"I am neither a giant nor jolly!"

"Yeah, I can see that- just hurry it up!" Tearing his attention away from their squabble, Star-Lord peered into three other cells. All of which didn't hold what rocket wanted. Incidentally, it happened to be a prosthetic leg, and why Rocket needed it, he wasn't sure. He turned a corner, just as a security guard exited their office. Heat rushing to his face, he slipped into an open cell, sighing with relief as the guards ran right past him.

"Get out."

Peter froze, the hairs on his arms standing on end. For a second, he thought maybe he should bolt, but judging from the sound o the due's voice, he could mow him down in a second flat. He ran a hand through his hair, chuckling nervously as he turned around to face the man.

"Listen, dude-" he stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening with what he saw.

A man with dark hair reaching his shoulders sat on the cot, black makeup under his eyes like he was a football player. Although it was faded and old looking, like he hadn't bothered washing his face for days. The man's hair looked a bit oily in the light, but Peter couldn't help staring.

"What are you looking at?" the man hissed, bringing Peter back to reality.

"N-nothing!" he stammered, "just uh, wanted to….. visit! Yeah, just wanted to visit!" He muttered a curse as soon as the words left his mouth. The guy didn't have a prosthetic leg, he realized. _I'm probably gonna get caught soon…_ he thought, taking a moment to stick his head out, peek down the hall.

"I'm sorry," the man said, " Do I know you?" Peter heard the cracking of knuckles as he drew himself back into the cell.

"Well, you may have heard of me…" he nodded, a coy smile playing on his lips.

"Do. I. Know. You." the man said, his words clipped and curt.

"Star-Lord?" he gulped out an answer, his face falling as a blank expression crossed the man's face. Everyone made that face, and quite frankly, he was so done with it. Sometimes he thought about just gong by his name, Peter Quill, but that would take the fun out of it.

"Never mind," he said under his breath, then louder, "Peter Quill."

"Star-Lord, huh?" the man pondered the name, "is that like, a codename of some sort?"

"Yup!" he admitted, feeling his chest swell with pride, but it was hardly anything to be proud about. It was just a name, after all. The mattress sank under the man's weight as he pushed himself up, and Peter pressed his back into the wall, watching as the man stretched momentarily. The yellow uniforms they were forced to wear looked faded on him, the thin fabric stretching across his barrel chest and muscular arms. Sighing, he rolled up the sleeves.

"I had a code-name once too," he said, "perhaps you've heard of it- The Winter Soldier?" It took Peter a minute to process what the man was saying, girlish squeals escaping his throat as he extended a hand.

"B-Bucky Barnes?" he asked. The man rolled his cold blue eyes, nodding. Peter looked down at his hand, then back at Bucky. "I heard about you before I left Earth-" Peter cut himself off quickly, clearing his throat.

"Finally, someone else from home," he said, "this place is crazy." Peter nodded, taking the man's hand. Peter knew he looked dopey, but he couldn't help it. he had read the Captain America comics as a kid, back when his mother was still alive.

"Defintiely!" he squeaked, pain flowing through his arm as the Winter Soldier grabbed his hand. It was cold and slick to the touch, the joints of the metal creaking as they shook. Between his hand feeling broken and shaking the hand of one of his heroes, breaking out of this joint looked easy. But I still need that leg…. Peter thought, glancing down at Bucky's hand.

It was completely metal, the yellow sleeve roles up to reveal pure titanium and silver. Cocking his head, Peter could see a red star etched into the shoulder. He bit his lip, glancing up at Bucky's face, then out the cell, where grout was still trying to protect the pod. Rocket and the others had already barricaded themselves inside and he could see Gamora pressed against the window, watching him intensely. Shrugging, he turned back to Bucky, placing his free hand on the metal forearm.

"It's not a leg, but it works!" he winced as he yanked, pulling Bucky down as he fell to the floor.

"What the fu-" Bucky started to yell, Peter scrambling to his feet. Looking down, he grinned. He had the metal arm, the fingers still intertwined in his. Wires poked out from the end, electricity sparking randomly every time he moved.

"Sorry, but I kinda need it!" Peter shouted, not looking back as he ran out of the cell and down the hall to the pod's entrance. Gamora was waving him on, a look of worry in her eyes. Groot had started to shrink, small twigs falling to the ground as he did so.

"Guys, i got it!" he yelled as he finally made it, slipping through the door. Raising the arm above his head, he strutted proudly to rocket, who had finished connecting a bunch of wires.

"You got it?" the raccoon asked. Grinning broadly, Peter handed him the arm.

"One metal prosthetic, per your request!" he said.

"Peter, this isn't a leg," rocket deadpanned. Peter opened his mouth to counteract rocket, but ended up sputtering incoherent nonsense, jaw agape as Rocket rolled his eyes, running his claws over the shiny metal. Groot climbed in through the window.

"I am Groot," the tree announced.

"That's great, but it doesn't help," Gamora snapped, then to Rocket, "it's still a prosthetic. you said you needed one. Now get us out of here!" A grin crossed the vermin's face, and he suddenly burst into a loud bout of cackled, tossing the arm onto the dashboard.

"What is so funny?" Gamora demanded, crossing her arms.

"I didn't ned any prosthetics!" rocket laughed, wiping tear from his eye as his laughter subsided, "I just wanted to play a prank!" Peter exchanged looks with Gamora, disbelief obvious on her face.

"Are you telling me that i risked my life just to play a prank?!" Peter yelled at the raccoon. Rocket shrugged, getting up to grab the controls.

"What?" he asked, "it was funny!" Pressing a button on the control panel, the door started to slowly slide closed. Rocket grumbled under his breath, "You guys just don't know how to take a joke!"

_CRE-A-K!_

The inmates jumped, turning to see the door being forced open. _A security guard?_ Peter thought, raising a fist, although he was in no way prepared to actually fight. Gulping, the group winced as they watched the person- the person's hand, really- push open the door, just wide enough for a human to squeeze through. Veins popped out of the skin, tendons in the muscles looking ready to rip.

"Star-Lord!" came a ferocious bellow, sending chills down the spine of all but Peter, who could only smile with glee.

"Finally!" he cried, jumping bak suddenly when Bucky Barged in, face filled with rage.

"Quill!" Rocket yelled, "I thought it was just us!" Groot had shrunk somewhat, even though he still managed to tower over everyone in the pod. Peter raised his hands in defense.

"In my defense I didn't think he would follow me!"

They watched as Bucky pushed past Drax and Gamora, who were standing by the door, glaring at Peter.

"Where. Is. My. Arm." he ordered, voice low and menacing. Peter felt his knees buckle.

"You know, you sure are scary in real life-" he began, gasping as Bucky pushed him aside. Thankfully, Groot caught him before he felt to the ground.

"I am Groot," the plant said.

"Yes you are," peter grumbled, pulling himself out of the tree's grasp. It made him wonder why the tree was even coming along. The only thing he was able to do was intro due himself, for crying out loud! Gamora pointed to Bucky as he looked around the pod, eyes landing on Groot.

"Who is this?" she commanded bluntly.

"Um, he's-" Peter began.

"I am Groot," Groot said, leering over the Winter Soldier. Bucky twitched, blue eyes widening. Peter laughed nervously, jumping in front of Groot.

"So, about your arm-"

"Where is it?" Bucky asked.

"Why do you need it though?" Peter joked, "I mean, surely you can have them give you a new one-"

Bucky pulled up the sleeve of his prison uniform higher, and the other s gasped as sparks flew from it. Pulling the sleeve up higher, he revealed where the arm was supposed to connect to his body, railroad tracks decorating his skin. Biting her lip, Gamora piped up from where she stood.

"I think you should give back the arm, Quill," she suggested. Peter nodded, licking his lips.

"Yeah," he agreed, walking over to the dashboard where the arm sat. It glinted in the red laser light as he reached for it-

- until Rocket snatched it out from under his hand, pressing it to his chest.

"Rocket, give it to him!" Gamora hissed, hunching her shoulders. Her black and purple hair created a curtain as she land forward, hovering over the animal. Rocket only tightened his grip as Bucky then grabbed the end, a loud squelching sound as he pushed it back into place, wires and nerves connecting to one another.

Once it was attached, Bucky glared at Rocket as he raised his arm. Rocket returned the sentiment, hanging onto the metal fingers as he was hoisted into the air. Gamora groaned as they then said simultaneously:

"I need this."


End file.
